Summer in the Summer Room

I suppose it’s a coincidence that I live in a house with a glass room on the back, at the same time as entering my ‘hot flush phase’. Not a happy coincidence, more of a sweaty disaster.

It’s a beautiful room, once the conservatory, renamed by The Grey as the Summer Room, built in Georgian style to match the rest of this grade 2 listed home. Visitors nearly always let out a little ‘wow’ or ‘oooh’ when they first see it.

The Grey and I have furnished it appropriately (for us, not the Georgians!) in quirky bits and pieces, some from that marvellous antique furniture and repro shop in Sandgate owned by the archetypal little old lady who is about 103. It was a Sunday in spring when we first drove up there (through Appledore where the villagers sat outside the pub having a hog roast) in search of objet d’art for our new abode.

The LOL (little old lady) was manning one shop and she would give you a key to let yourselves in to another a few doors down. Quite bizarre in this day and age.

We ended up with:

a station clock which is perpendicular to the wall and so most visitors bang their heads on it (and the Grey and I still bang our heads on it four years later due to a complete lack of memory and/or spatial awareness);

a tray table which is very handy when friends dine with us for plonking extra bits on;

and a bamboo ladder (every home needs one) which is now laden with linen and cotton tablecloths and some pretty garden tea lights.

Soon after the Sandgate jaunt, we came across a table in a junk shop in Reigate (don’t ask) which was in bits and only £10. Now, lovingly stuck together and beautifully painted with Farrow and Ball, it is our summer dining table.

So now we can enjoy supper in the summer room each evening providing we have had the doors open to let in whatever breeze is on offer, or we have the air conditioning on full blast and I have an ice bucket to hand in a vain attempt to keep me cool.